Consumed

 

I have a deep unease squirming in my gut

Wallowing in the sauces, flopping in the goop

It causes me great discomfort and worry

This small but growing threat must be dealt with

Stilled, destroyed, or purged

Before it can cause me further harm

How though. It eats, and slithers and grows

While I unsuccessfully search for a weakness

A chink in its armor, a soft spot to attack

If this goes on, I will be consumed

And only the parasite will remain